Watson and Toffee- Superior Private Detectives and Masters of Coordination
Chapter 1
The room is dark and quite, (it would be dark anyways because it is in the dead and dark of night), not a creature makes a sound, not even a mouse. Me and my co-detective/partner/friend/accomplice named Toffee (this has to be said with a British accent for maximum effect) are standing stock still as we observe the soon to be, if not prevented by us, victim. My name is Watson, and I am a Private Detective in Britain. I'm about six feet tall 152 pounds and all around good guy. My partner who is standing next to me at the moment is named Toffee, and both of our names MUST be said with a British accent or else the whole effect is ruined. But our mission tonight is one of great importance; see our client Mr. Drawlish has had break-ins to his house in the past fortnight.
The moon is shinning in murkily through the window and casts an eerie glow around the bed were Mr. Drawlish is sleeping. It looks as if he is almost being assimilated into Heaven t. Toffee and my years are tuned into the slightest sound as to be prepared incase a series of unfortunate events were to occur.
Mr. Drawlish is about a 60 year old widower whose wife was believed to have passed away several years ago in a severe horse riding accident by the North Sea costal cliffs.
In the break-ins that have been happening in the past fortnight seem to be interrelated and performed by the same person each time. Each of the 9 break-ins have been in the dark of night (this however varies because you can have only one true "dark of night" that is when, of course, there is a new moon.) So as tonight is, we have a full moon, but Toffee and I fear not because our thief is getting sloppy, he comes whenever it is night so I feel that the brightness of the moon has nothing to do with the thief’s pattern for breaking in. The thief however is leaving discreet clues that Toffee has picked up on.
You have to love Toffee because of this- when she isn't bouncing off the walls and talking about stuff like how she wants to get married in her back yard- she can notice anything, and recognize a pattern, which in this particular case we needed. As it turns out that our thief takes things that relate to Mr. Dawlish's wife, pictures, rings, jewelry etc... Toffee saw this and realized that the thief probably knows the deceased Mrs. Drawlish. Once we saw an established pattern we quickly got our acts together and started moseying ourselves around Mrs. Drawlish's workplace at the Cross and Arms Hotel in Lexington Township which is about 100 miles North West from London.
As Toffee and I waited anxiously in our hideout in the closet, peaking through the crack in the door, when we see a figure dash across the window where the moon was filtering through. Toffee gave a slight shudder, I said in my heavy British accent "Toffee dearest, we must remain in concealment... Not I peep or a shiver from you, or me at that fact. To solve this case we must be sly as foxes and as silent as panthers."
People often don't give enough credit to animals and in this case the Canine familiaris a.k.a the common dog. Dogs have the most sensitive nose on planet that is known to man. For example they can take a sent and follow that single sent all over a village, and in detective cases they are particularly useful for finding the suspect. However in this case the thief has left no article laying hap-hazard around for the use of a dog.
Toffee and I asked Mr. Drawlish if he had a list of enemies of himself and his wife... He compiled a list of 5 people that he would consider an enemy. First on the list was the local Duke. Duke Castillo who was of Spanish decent and had ancestors back to Isabella and Ferdinand - the first of the Catholic rulers . Toffee and myself inquired around the village, but found out that Duke Castillo had left the month before to return to Spain to rejoin up with his family. Dead End.
Toffee and I were holding our breath as we waited for the slightest
sound of a break in. And as the night was dragging on our once finely tuned listing devices known as our ears were slightly out of optimal performance... Unfortunately we could not revive our former listening acuteness because of the toll this stake out in the cramped and stuffy closet we were residing in, for the moment.
The second, in this case, people on Mr. Drawlish "enemy list" were the other leather workers in town who had been competition to Mr. Drawlish's own (very successful) leather works. Mr. and Mrs. Flemming were their names, and had long disliked the Drawlish family because of their leather business. Mrs. Flemming was (fortunately) able to be found on 543 Cassel Street, in an old run down house that had “beware of killer rat” written all over it. The house was attached to their business which showed the same, if not a grimmer, appearance than the house, this had “Beware of killer rat army” written all over it (literally of course). Toffee and I both decided to take our interrogative skills out of the closet and conduct an interview. Before entering the house of the Flemming’s we gave our signature, “oh man what are we getting our selves into” gulp. Mrs. Flemming answered our summoning by walking around from the business part of the house and hollering out to us “Err… sorry’ ab’ut that, ‘ere come in’ side.” Mrs. Flemming was a short and squat woman, who had a ruddy face that was covered in dirt and tanning oil from the leather in her shop she was working in just moments ago. As the interview commenced we discovered Mrs. Flemming had long ago distanced herself from the Drawlish name not because she disliked the Drawlishs, but because of the competition between the two businesses. She did however respond to our comment about Mrs. Drawlish's wife: "Awe, right... 'errible that had'err ha'ppen. She was a't least 'was a n'ice ta me'" Other than this the interview was unyielding of other information. The other three people on the list that Drawlish had given us were found to not yield any useful information to the recent break-ins but said their condolences to the death of Mrs. Drawlish. Toffee and I were stumped.
Finally we heard a creek come from the out side of the bedroom and thought this might be the conclusion of the mystery we were trying to solve. We took one last surveillance of the room- nothing had changed...The moon still gave a placid shimmer across the bed. The door creaked open. I whispered to Toffee "shhhh..." although she didn't need telling, it was more for my self-reassurance that I had taken every precaution of concealment so we wouldn't be detected. The limber figure silhouetted by the moonlight, walked purposefully across the bedroom to the dresser where laid a jewelry Box. The silhouette was not able to be I identified as a man or women.
I gave the signal to Toffee and we attempted to bound out the door and apprehend the thief. In the attempt to do so Toffee managed to push off of a slick spot in the flooring causing her to careen forward making a horrible racket as she kicked ironing board which collapsed sideways, I somehow in the jungle of this catastrophe managed to get hooked on something as a lunged and I flew artfully over Toffee like it was a planned acrobatic stunt... Toffee and I would have been very successful in the circus. We found our selves on the floor in a tangle; we both looked up and saw the culprit...
Tell me who you think it is! I'll write the finishing soon... Stay tuned in!
The room is dark and quite, (it would be dark anyways because it is in the dead and dark of night), not a creature makes a sound, not even a mouse. Me and my co-detective/partner/friend/accomplice named Toffee (this has to be said with a British accent for maximum effect) are standing stock still as we observe the soon to be, if not prevented by us, victim. My name is Watson, and I am a Private Detective in Britain. I'm about six feet tall 152 pounds and all around good guy. My partner who is standing next to me at the moment is named Toffee, and both of our names MUST be said with a British accent or else the whole effect is ruined. But our mission tonight is one of great importance; see our client Mr. Drawlish has had break-ins to his house in the past fortnight.
The moon is shinning in murkily through the window and casts an eerie glow around the bed were Mr. Drawlish is sleeping. It looks as if he is almost being assimilated into Heaven t. Toffee and my years are tuned into the slightest sound as to be prepared incase a series of unfortunate events were to occur.
Mr. Drawlish is about a 60 year old widower whose wife was believed to have passed away several years ago in a severe horse riding accident by the North Sea costal cliffs.
In the break-ins that have been happening in the past fortnight seem to be interrelated and performed by the same person each time. Each of the 9 break-ins have been in the dark of night (this however varies because you can have only one true "dark of night" that is when, of course, there is a new moon.) So as tonight is, we have a full moon, but Toffee and I fear not because our thief is getting sloppy, he comes whenever it is night so I feel that the brightness of the moon has nothing to do with the thief’s pattern for breaking in. The thief however is leaving discreet clues that Toffee has picked up on.
You have to love Toffee because of this- when she isn't bouncing off the walls and talking about stuff like how she wants to get married in her back yard- she can notice anything, and recognize a pattern, which in this particular case we needed. As it turns out that our thief takes things that relate to Mr. Dawlish's wife, pictures, rings, jewelry etc... Toffee saw this and realized that the thief probably knows the deceased Mrs. Drawlish. Once we saw an established pattern we quickly got our acts together and started moseying ourselves around Mrs. Drawlish's workplace at the Cross and Arms Hotel in Lexington Township which is about 100 miles North West from London.
As Toffee and I waited anxiously in our hideout in the closet, peaking through the crack in the door, when we see a figure dash across the window where the moon was filtering through. Toffee gave a slight shudder, I said in my heavy British accent "Toffee dearest, we must remain in concealment... Not I peep or a shiver from you, or me at that fact. To solve this case we must be sly as foxes and as silent as panthers."
People often don't give enough credit to animals and in this case the Canine familiaris a.k.a the common dog. Dogs have the most sensitive nose on planet that is known to man. For example they can take a sent and follow that single sent all over a village, and in detective cases they are particularly useful for finding the suspect. However in this case the thief has left no article laying hap-hazard around for the use of a dog.
Toffee and I asked Mr. Drawlish if he had a list of enemies of himself and his wife... He compiled a list of 5 people that he would consider an enemy. First on the list was the local Duke. Duke Castillo who was of Spanish decent and had ancestors back to Isabella and Ferdinand - the first of the Catholic rulers . Toffee and myself inquired around the village, but found out that Duke Castillo had left the month before to return to Spain to rejoin up with his family. Dead End.
Toffee and I were holding our breath as we waited for the slightest
sound of a break in. And as the night was dragging on our once finely tuned listing devices known as our ears were slightly out of optimal performance... Unfortunately we could not revive our former listening acuteness because of the toll this stake out in the cramped and stuffy closet we were residing in, for the moment.
The second, in this case, people on Mr. Drawlish "enemy list" were the other leather workers in town who had been competition to Mr. Drawlish's own (very successful) leather works. Mr. and Mrs. Flemming were their names, and had long disliked the Drawlish family because of their leather business. Mrs. Flemming was (fortunately) able to be found on 543 Cassel Street, in an old run down house that had “beware of killer rat” written all over it. The house was attached to their business which showed the same, if not a grimmer, appearance than the house, this had “Beware of killer rat army” written all over it (literally of course). Toffee and I both decided to take our interrogative skills out of the closet and conduct an interview. Before entering the house of the Flemming’s we gave our signature, “oh man what are we getting our selves into” gulp. Mrs. Flemming answered our summoning by walking around from the business part of the house and hollering out to us “Err… sorry’ ab’ut that, ‘ere come in’ side.” Mrs. Flemming was a short and squat woman, who had a ruddy face that was covered in dirt and tanning oil from the leather in her shop she was working in just moments ago. As the interview commenced we discovered Mrs. Flemming had long ago distanced herself from the Drawlish name not because she disliked the Drawlishs, but because of the competition between the two businesses. She did however respond to our comment about Mrs. Drawlish's wife: "Awe, right... 'errible that had'err ha'ppen. She was a't least 'was a n'ice ta me'" Other than this the interview was unyielding of other information. The other three people on the list that Drawlish had given us were found to not yield any useful information to the recent break-ins but said their condolences to the death of Mrs. Drawlish. Toffee and I were stumped.
Finally we heard a creek come from the out side of the bedroom and thought this might be the conclusion of the mystery we were trying to solve. We took one last surveillance of the room- nothing had changed...The moon still gave a placid shimmer across the bed. The door creaked open. I whispered to Toffee "shhhh..." although she didn't need telling, it was more for my self-reassurance that I had taken every precaution of concealment so we wouldn't be detected. The limber figure silhouetted by the moonlight, walked purposefully across the bedroom to the dresser where laid a jewelry Box. The silhouette was not able to be I identified as a man or women.
I gave the signal to Toffee and we attempted to bound out the door and apprehend the thief. In the attempt to do so Toffee managed to push off of a slick spot in the flooring causing her to careen forward making a horrible racket as she kicked ironing board which collapsed sideways, I somehow in the jungle of this catastrophe managed to get hooked on something as a lunged and I flew artfully over Toffee like it was a planned acrobatic stunt... Toffee and I would have been very successful in the circus. We found our selves on the floor in a tangle; we both looked up and saw the culprit...
Tell me who you think it is! I'll write the finishing soon... Stay tuned in!